


Fireflies' Farewell

by belncaz



Series: KnB Event stories [4]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Festival, Fireflies, I Tried, KiKuro Month 2016, M/M, also this is very cheesy, this was for week 1 but i failed hard at time management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 06:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7607302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belncaz/pseuds/belncaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise and Kuroko go a festival in a remote mountain village to watch the fireflies. It's an annual tradition attached to an ancient legend - and one they have a connection to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies' Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written for KiKuro month 2016, Week 1 Prompt: fireflies / festival…but I finished it quite late, whoops. I took the prompts and combined them with the Kitsune no yomeiri (“the fox’s wedding,” which is used for both sun showers and some forms of ghost light in Japan – or so says Wikipedia.). I hope you like it!

* * *

 

Evening fell with a lazy inevitability that was intrinsic to the summertime atmosphere; the air was somewhere between a wall of humid misery from the earlier rain and the very faint promise of a cool breeze to usher in a break for the festival. Kise Ryouta and Kuroko Tetsuya had journeyed to this remote mountain village to attend an annual celebration and they were hoping the moonrise would signal a more comfortable temperature.

The villagers were busy with their own activities and didn’t pay the young men much mind – artisans and small restaurant booths found places next to traditional games and people preparing paper lanterns to hang. The mood was lively despite the weather and the hum of conversation blended with a steady instrumentation provided by musicians and the rustle of clothing as people moved about.

The festival was in honor of an ancient legend that explained why the fireflies’ light in this area grew gradually stronger in July and remained prominent through August, rather than having mostly vanished as it did elsewhere in the country. The locals told of how their fireflies defied the typical lifecycle of their kind and held a poignant vigil for the long-ago tragedy of a thwarted marriage between a kitsune and his mortal lover. The human had been killed before the wedding could take place and the kitsune had been heartbroken – in his grief he lashed out, darkening the evening sky by hiding the stars that seemed to mock him with their cheerful twinkling. The tale diverged from there, with some accounts saying the fireflies rose to replace the hidden stars of their own free will while others said it was the human’s last lingering bit of spirit that simply imitated the fireflies, who honored his wish with an annual reenactment.

Both versions meant the same thing – the fireflies, with their brief but charming light - were a metaphor for the fragility of life and the importance of love. Since fox spirits celebrated their unions with their own ethereal lights, the fireflies reminded all generations of the sad tale by gently flashing in an imitation of what should have been.

The legend was popular as one of drama and romance; it was common for couples in love to make pilgrimages here to ask for blessings. The village welcomed outsiders, the few who managed to make their way through the rough terrain at least, but they did so with cagey smiles and a hospitality that welcomed even as it maintained a distance. They were a people that guarded their secrets well, and the ancient gods and spirits of their homeland were thought to still be alive and vibrant thanks to their careful attention. They weren’t meant for the casual passersby, and it took seeing a couple with a destiny bound with the promise of love to earn a warmer reception.

Yet the villagers seemed to recognize the pair of them, offering greetings that seemed familiar rather than simply courteous, despite not knowing their names. They browsed the stalls, sampling local treats and playing games, carefully avoiding the issue of why they were there in the first place.

It was August now, most of the fireflies across Japan had already faded. But this festival celebrated one last glorious swarm. It was curious how the festival was always held the day of a sun shower, and the night sky was then filled with the luminescence of the fireflies. It was as close to the true incarnation of the _Kitsune no yomeiri_ as many could imagine, and the reenactment of the story was solemnly performed each year by a special cohort of carefully selected actors and musicians.

It had a different meaning for the two young men strolling through the festival streets. They were both dressed in blue yukatas – Kise's was a deep, rich blue with a pattern of summer blossoms carefully stitched in narrow bands. Kuroko's was a softer shade, a hue more akin to a winter’s frost than the summer heat that surrounded them, with a design of small birds interspersed throughout the cloth.

Kise glanced down at his companion, Kuroko’s eyes were smiling even if his expression was blank. He reached out and captured Kuroko’s hand in his own, causing Kuroko to look up in question.

“Kise-kun? What’s wrong?”

Kise just shook his head and waved at the view in front of them with his free hand. “The fireflies are getting stronger.”

The light in Kuroko’s eyes dimmed for a moment before he spoke with a sense of determination, “So they are. The night is passing us by, we must catch up to it.”

Kise gave a half-shrug of agreement before leading them over to a food stall. They deliberated on their choices for a moment before selecting an assortment of taiyaki. They found a place to sit and eat the pastries while people watching.  They couldn’t help but hear the faint echo of the storyteller’s account as it was being recited a short distance from them. Their eyes both flared with recognition and regret, but they had no choice.

At some unspoken sign, they rose in tandem and disposed of their garbage. They seemed to melt through the crowd, nobody really thinking about it but just naturally falling out of their way. When they reached the edge of the woods they could already hear the waterfall and they headed towards it.

Hundreds, thousands even, of fireflies accompanied them. They rose from the damp grass, descended from tree branches, left their secret hollows and hideaways, called by the cycle they’d been performing for centuries now. The villagers could see the procession and as one-by-one they noticed, they paused their activities to send silent prayers after the couple – the latest incarnation of the legendary pair this festival was held for.

Kise and Kuroko soon arrived at the cavern that was hidden by the waterfall. They entered, the water of no concern to them. The fireflies followed and their light was magnified in the stone cavern – showing a nearly eerie setting of moss and ragged stones that surrounded a small natural pool.

They had a little time left before the fireflies would finally give into the natural order and fall quiet for the year. When that happened, Kise’s eyes would fade and he would fall away from the human world, doomed to spend the year alone until Kuroko reappeared at the first rise of the summer season – each year a little older until he reached the age he had been when he first died. Then a new cycle would start, and Kise would search the lands to find him again. It didn’t matter where Kuroko was reborn, Kise always found him as the last spring evening faded. They had one season together each year, it was too precious to waste even a moment of it.

Kuroko turned and spontaneously embraced Kise, clutching the folds of his garment tightly for a moment as he burrowed his head against Kise. “I’m sorry, Kise-kun. I wish you didn’t have to bear it alone.” Kuroko never remembered his past until spring gave way to summer, Kise meanwhile couldn’t come near him a moment before then. It was the bargain he’d struck to have any chance to see Kuroko again, and it destroyed him, but Kise couldn’t break the barrier until Kuroko’s eyes lit with a hidden gleam that let him see Kise for what he was.

Kise raised a hand to burrow in Kuroko’s soft hair, folding his other arm around the smaller man’s back. “Kurokocchi…it was never your fault. I shouldn’t put you through all of this each year, but I can’t seem to help myself. I’m sorry.”

Kuroko laughed but it was strained. “Kise-kun, please don’t apologize for that. I never know why I feel so detached from everything each year until I see you waiting for me. And then it makes sense again. The light in your eyes…it’s the first thing I really wake up to…and it’s the last thing I see before we are separated. Don’t apologize for loving me, please don’t. I can’t apologize for loving you after all.”

It was strange really, that they always made their way back here. The village had been Kuroko’s home; the first time he was born at least. This pool was where he and Kise had first met, when Kuroko had been a small child playing in the forest. The kitsune had been charmed by the blunt, old-soul-nature of the adorable human youngster and ensured he made his way safely home. They had continued to encounter one another as Kuroko grew older, until their friendship had changed – becoming something else, something more. It was also where Kuroko has been killed by a jealous villager, and it was where the fireflies had first begun their memorial.

Every year, the pair of them sensed it – that last moment they would share together - when summer ended and Kuroko was whisked away from Kise, returned to his life as an ordinary mortal. Kise would leave the mundane world, but he’d return each year to wait for Kuroko to remember him. It came in the quiet roar of the fireflies rising – as they did, golden and blue sparks seemed to swirl around Kise and Kuroko, renewing their promise to find each other and taking the price of this magic – Kuroko’s memory and Kise’s ability to be near him.

Kise was always left in a darkened cave, the air heavy from the waterfall’s proximity and keeping the faint scent of vanilla trapped there for a brief, teasing moment. And then even that was lost to him.

As the villagers watched the skies, they saw the cloud of fireflies rise and slowly fade out of sight, marking the end of the yearly reunion the kitsune and his lover were allowed. The spectacle was enchanting, and the few outsiders that trekked their way to see it couldn’t help but think there must be something to the legend. To the villagers that knew it was true, they sent their prayers and blessings after the couple – knowing they would be back next year.

From his perch on a massive tree branch, a red-haired spirit with mismatched eyes watched the show as well. He came every year to witness it, just like the villagers. He was unsurprised when his companion broke the silence.

“Akashi, surely this has gone on long enough. Why do you continue to indulge Kise like this? You could easily make him forget that mortal and stop this ridiculous moping. It’s not fair to Kuroko either, not that his happiness is any of my concern.”

Akashi smiled in acknowledgment of the question yet he didn’t reply right away. His piercing eyes were trained on the sky, watching for the last light to dwindle away before he answered. When he did, his response was soft. “Even if I make him forget Tetsuya, he would grow restless with being unable to find his mate. He would be of little use to me if he were doomed to such a long existence all alone. Ryouta had already started the ritual to transform Tetsuya into one of us, but unfortunately, it wasn’t complete. Because of that, I can only offer them a fourth of each year together – until they both decide it isn’t worth it any longer, I won’t stop it.”

Moments later, the magic had worked its course and the familiar howl of grief that shot through the forest seemed to reach every living creature. Even Akashi and Midorima were not immune to Kise’s mourning and they bowed their heads in recognition. Akashi’s spell let Kise and Kuroko spend each summer together, but when the fireflies departed and the last light faded, Kuroko was returned to his life of not-knowing, of being unable to recognize his lover, and being unaware of who he was.

As the echo of Kise’s cry slowly faded, Akashi glanced at Midorima. “I won’t stop it, however much I might wish to. It would be a disservice to them both. If they can bear it, surely we can, too.”

Midorima sighed and it was heavy – but he agreed. He didn’t have to like it, but he agreed.

The villagers heard the kitsune’s wail and knew the lovers were separated for another year. They quietly made their vows to their own loved ones, watching the lanterns sway from their stations, and remembered the legend’s end they all preferred:

The fireflies knew a secret about the fox-spirit and his lover. It was true that while they didn’t get to spend the whole year together, they had spent lifetimes with one another in their millennia of summer romances. The secret was simple and known to anyone that thought about it: foxes mated for life, there wasn’t anything that said it was only one life though, was there?

 


End file.
